Living Death

A dimly lit hospital room. Two beds evenly spaced from each other and the walls, surrounded by machines. In one bed lay an old woman. In the other, an old man. Both almost completely motionless, eyes closed. Their chests rose and fell as the machines forced air in and out of their lungs through tubes in their mouths. The only sound was that of the monitors, beeping out heart rates at a slow and steady beat. Silently, the IVs dripped liquid nutrients into their veins through needles in their arms. They were alive, but dead inside.

The woman was in a coma. She hadn’t opened her eyes for over a year. Her body was degenerating, the process slowed by modern medicine. Her soul was stuck inside of her body. The sudden shock of going into the coma had prevented her soul from escaping. She yearned to get out, to be released from her fleshy prison. But this she could tell no one for she couldn’t make her eyes open, let alone move her mouth. She was trapped inside her dying body that wouldn’t die.

The man still opened his eyes and his mouth, but no sane words ever left his lips. His soul had drifted away, like the ebbing tides. But unlike the tides, it had not come back to shore. His soulless body was deteriorating just like the woman’s, slowed by science. He, too, couldn’t tell anyone of his desire to leave. All he could do was watch, from the corner of the room. His soul watched all of this, the machines and his lifeless body as well as the body of his wife. He yearned to hold her again, to talk with her, to be with her again. But he could not. He could only watch. His soul had separated from his body, but he could not leave. He was trapped outside of his dying body that wouldn’t die.

The door opened, spilling bright white light into the room. Two women entered. One had straight, shoulder-length black hair; the other short, curly brown hair. Both were middle-aged, wearing loose fitting, flower print dresses and sandals. They stopped at the first bed to say hello to the old woman and kissed her on the cheek. They looked at her in silence for a few moments, unsure if their words had been heard. Then they glanced at each other and moved over to the old man’s bed.

“Hello Father,” the black-haired woman said as she bent over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hello my daughter,” his soul in the corner whispered, though he knew they could not hear him. He watched as his other daughter kissed his almost lifeless body on the cheek. He wished he could tell them that his body was just a shell, no longer host to his soul. He’d also ask the damn doctors to let him go, let him die. He felt trapped by his inability to affect anything. A feeling that had been with him for too long now. A feeling he had had since before leaving his failing body.

He was unsure of the point at which more of him had been outside than inside his body. But he knew now that his body would never again say anything to them, not even the strange babblings of a man losing his mind. He was no longer losing, he was lost.

The brown-haired woman gently put her hand on her sister’s shoulder, “He’s asleep. We should let him rest.” She leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek.

“Yes, please,” his soul begged, “let me rest in peace. Let me go. Let me find death!”

A figure appeared in the doorway. As the figure moved in, the women looked up to see that it was a young man wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard. “Excuse me, ladies, but if I could speak with you. About your parents.” The two women nodded and followed him out of the room.

As their forms became obscured by the bright light, the man’s soul wept. “Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? I was a good husband, a good father, a good worker. I did everything I was supposed to. Why can’t I move on? Why do I have to linger here, seeing myself rot? I am no longer the man I was! Why is death avoiding me?!”

“That’s funny. Usually it’s the other way around,” a small figure stood in the lighted doorway.

He blinked in surprise, “Sorry?”

“Oh don’t apologize,” the short figure said as she stepped into the room. He could see that it was a young girl. Her long midnight black hair brushed the ground as she walked towards him. Her porcelain white skin shone against her black hair. Her simple grey dress softened the contrast while her smile softened his anger. She stopped a few feet away from him and looked up. “It’s just that usually people try to avoid death. I never try to avoid people. I like people too much to do that.”

“But… you’re just a little girl.” He looked her up and down, remembering all the incarnations of death he had read about in books or seen in the movies. This little girl didn’t match any of them. Maybe it was just a little girl and maybe, because children are innocent, she could see souls…

The little girl sighed. “Well, I tried being a baby to represent new beginnings. But too many people thought I was Cupid!” She giggled at her joke, but stopped when she realized that he wasn’t laughing. “Would you rather see a skeletal figure in a robe carrying a scythe? I can do that if you prefer.” She grimaced slightly, finding the idea distasteful.

Confused, he stepped forward. “You’re really Death?”

“Yes,” she nodded and smiled again, “The one and only. No matter what form I take, I am still Death.”

His face lit up with joy. “Then you’ve finally come for me! And…” Lovingly, he looked over at his wife. “My wife? Is it her time, too?”

Death looked over at the woman in the bed. “I’m sorry. It’s not her time. Nor yours.” She looked back at him. “I just heard you as I was passing by. I thought you might need some cheering up.”

He looked at her in shock. “What? But… I don’t want comfort. I want to die! Why can’t you kill me!”

She sighed and said, “That’s not my job.”

“But you’re Death. You kill people, don’t you?” He moved towards her, hoping that by being closer to her physically he would be closer to dying.

“No, I don’t kill people. People kill people, whether it’s themselves or others. I can’t change the state of your physical body,” she reached out and touched his hand, “but I can help you with the state of your soul.”

“My soul?” he gazed down into her eyes.

“Yes. Have you looked at yourself? You have a physical form, a shape.” She opened her eyes wider and he saw himself reflected there. He looked like he was…

“33 years, 2 months and 6 days old, if I’m not mistaken,” she spoke softly, “the day you married your wife. That was the first tux you ever bought and the last, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes, remembering the day. The day he married his wife was the day when his life had really begun, but now… He opened his eyes and looked over at his body lying on the bed. He was no longer the man he once was.

“And you never will be,” Death squeezed his hand gently, “but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. If you can come to terms with dying, then I’ll be able to take you when your body dies.”

“Come to terms with dying? But I want to die!” He gripped her hand, not wanting her to leave without him.

She shook her head sadly, “You may want to die, but you may not be ready to let go of your life. If you can’t let go and your body dies, then you will become a ghost. You will stay in the form that you are now, unable to leave.” She slipped her hand out of his.

His hand fell back to his side. “I don’t understand. Are you saying that I haven’t accepted my death? Because I really do want to go! Not just for myself, because I feel no pain right now. But for my daughters. For the pain they are going through. I want to die, to release them from the pain and the burden that they carry.”

“But it’s not about death. The final act of death is easy. I just take your hand and lead you to where you need to go,” she paused and cocked her head to the side, “but before you can truly die, you must let go of your fear.”

He stepped back suddenly. He finally understood what she was saying. He turned his back to her, thinking about his life. What did his life mean? All the things he had done, all the things he had said, all the people he had met. What did it all mean now that he was dying and leaving it all behind? Though he was ready to leave to stop all the pain, he hadn’t fully accepted what that meant. In truth, he was afraid of dying. Not the pain, but the loss of self. He was losing his identity and losing control.

He turned around to see Death walking back into the bright light, “Wait!” he ran towards her, trying to grab her, stop her from leaving.

“Don’t worry,” she spoke over her shoulder, “You’ll see me again… soon.” She disappeared into the light just as he reached the doorway. He slammed into the light like it was a wall and stumbled backwards. He sighed, realizing that he really couldn’t leave until it was his time, whenever that would be. He trudged over to his body and looked down at it. He wondered how soon was soon, and hoped that it was closer than he thought.

Through the long night he thought about his life and about dying. He was angry that everything that he had done and said that made him who he was today, was slipping away. He remembered back to when he had first started deteriorating. The frustration of forgetting who he was or who his daughters were. One moment, he knew where he was and the next… he didn’t. It wasn’t just forgetting the who or the where, but the how. He couldn’t remember how to do things. He remembered how hard it became to even sit up by himself or eat on his own or piss without help. He remembered the humiliation he felt as a stranger, a nurse, had to help wipe his ass. This was what he was afraid of. Not of death. She was right; death was easy if you were ready for it. The hardest part of dying was accepting the loss of identity and loss of control.

Control. That was the problem. He was truly afraid of losing control. But he had already lost control. He no longer controlled his body. Even when he had been in his body this past year, he had had no control over his mind. This was what was so hard for him to accept about dying, the loss of control over things that he had become accustomed to controlling.

“I took all of that for granted!” He stared down at his body. “I never thought about how lucky I was to be able to move on my own, to think on my own. To do everything on my own power. I never thought about the day when I would no longer be in control…” His eyes widened and he rushed over to his wife’s body. “My love, I hope you can hear me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so selfish and only worrying about myself. You… you’re in a worse position than I am. I wish I could help you. But I… I just hope that you’ve been able to come to terms with dying…” He stopped, remembering how his wife had been in life. How strong she had been. She had been his pillar of strength, always there for him, always patient with him.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he smiled down at her. He gazed lovingly down at her wrinkled face. He remembered when he had first met her. How beautiful she had been. Then he had been blessed with the opportunity to get to know her and discovered just how beautiful she was inside too. He knew that she was still beautiful inside, just trapped. Just like him. They were trapped in a living death, but he had found comfort and knew that he could wait. And he would be ready.

The first rays of the sun were brightening the horizon. In the dimly lit room, he waited with a patience that he had never known in life. He knew that all he had to do was wait for Death to come back and claim his soul. But if his body continued to be on life support, he knew he wasn’t going to die soon. He briefly wondered how soon was soon to a being who had to be as old as time when a shadow passed in the doorway. Hopeful, he looked up.

His two daughters entered the room, both bleary-eyed and tired. They leaned on each other for support as several doctors walked past them into the room. The doctors chattered, giving directions to each other and asking the women questions. His daughters simply nodded their heads in response. Otherwise, they remained by the door, still as statues against the quick movements of the doctors.

He smiled as he realized that they were removing the tubes and the IVs from both his body and his wife’s. He gave a little jump of joy as the last tube was removed and only the heart monitors remained. As the doctors were leaving, one informed the women that it would be sooner for their mother than for their father. And then they were gone. It was only family now.

The two women stood between both beds and looked from one bed to another. They waited, holding each other’s hand for comfort. Waited for release, waited for relief, waited for Death.

He stood behind his daughters. He wanted to hold them, to talk to them and tell them that it was okay. Just like he used to do when they were small and they had been afraid of the dark. He had held them until they weren’t afraid. He had tucked them into bed and kissed them both good night. He had shut the door, but not all the way so that some of the hall light would shine in to light up their dreams.

Suddenly, one of the machines flat lined. The women rushed over to their mother and clasped her hands. They told her that they loved her and would miss her very much. And then he saw her. Her shapeless soul rose up out of her body and floated over to him.

“Honey!” he cried as she wrapped her arms around him. He felt safe in her arms again. He felt joy, “I missed you so.”

“I know dear. I saw. I heard.” She smiled lovingly at him then looked over at their daughters. The women were weeping in each other’s arms, but the tears were a mixture of joy, relief and sorrow.

“I… don’t know when I’m going to die.” He confessed to her. “She said soon, but…”

“Not this soon.” The small figure appeared in the doorway again. “I’m sorry. I’m just here for her.” She held out her hand to the woman.

His wife started to reach out and take Death’s hand, but he grabbed his wife’s arm and stepped between them. “No! Please! Please, let her stay with me until I die. It’s been so long since I’ve been with her.”

Death paused and pulled back her hand. “But you’ll see her again soon.”

“I know. You keep saying soon, but… I…” He looked at his wife. “I just don’t want to be alone right now. I’ve accepted my life and dying, as you can see. I’m prepared to die alone, but I’d rather not…” He gulped and looked Death squarely in the eyes. “I’d like to make a request that my wife stay with me until I die. You have to come back here for me anyway. It wouldn’t mess up the system too badly would it, since you’re coming back here soon?”

She cocked an eyebrow and stood thinking for a moment. Then she grinned. “No, I don’t think it would mess anything up too much. I have a few things to take care of anyway and then I’ll be back for you… both.” She winked, turned and dissipated into the light.

Relief spread across his face as he hugged his wife tightly. She laughed and hugged him. They stood there, holding hands, smiling at each other, waiting until it was his time.

The two souls waited, as did their daughters. The women had turned and were looking down at his body. They wiped their eyes with wet handkerchiefs, holding each other’s hand tightly.

A couple of hours passed and another figure appeared in the doorway. A nurse quickly walked in, “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.” His daughters nodded and looked down at their father.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” the black-haired one kissed his body’s cheek.

“We love you,” the brown-hair one squeezed his body’s hand.

As the nurse ushered the women out of the room, he turned to his wife. “I hope that I pass in the night so that they won’t have to bear witness to my death. I want to save them that pain.”

His wife smiled. “But honey, that might cheat them. It might cheat them of mourning and relief. They might have a better closure if they are here to witness it.”

He frowned slightly. “I don’t know. It seems so pointless. We were already dead a long time ago. I think they know that. I think it would just be so much more painful to see the final moments. I just…don’t want to see them in any more pain.”

“I know dear,” his wife squeezed his hand, “but it’s not really up to us, now is it?”

“No, I suppose not. They’ve stopped the machines from controlling us. Now it’s up to nature to let go,” he looked over at his body, “but it seems like such an inhumane way to die. Just to let the body dehydrate and starve...”

His wife wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it so why worry? We can’t change what has happened or what is happening. We have to wait. But I’m here with you, so let’s just enjoy our time together.”

He kissed her. “Yes, let’s do that. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Death. She’s the one who allowed me to stay.”

He nodded. “I will. As soon as she gets here.”

They waited together, enjoying the stillness and quiet of each other’s company. The only sound disturbing their peace was the constant rhythmic beep, beep of the heart monitor.

Soon, though he wasn’t sure how soon it was for he had lost track of time, the small figure again appeared in the doorway. Death walked in and smiled at both of them. They smiled back as the machine flat lined. He suddenly felt free, as if there had been an invisible cord connecting him to his body. He smiled broadly and hugged his wife.

Then he smiled at Death. “I’m ready now. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know.” Death smiled back and reached up with both of her hands. He took one and his wife took the other. Death led them through the lighted doorway into the beyond. They faded away, leaving the dim room behind them.



(3,387 words)